Kyle stood in front of a large group made up of a mixture of senior officers, enlisted men and researchers. As he looked back to check on them he could see that some were beginning to shift nervously.

It had been six months since Grey had told him to expect an offer for an exchange program between the Trephi and Earth; today was the day it began.

Kyle watched the ship descend onto the runway. He had to marvel at the sheer size of the craft. It was over 50 meters long and moved like it was lighter than a feather, with a grace and agility that would turn a swan green with envy. The ship hovered for a moment; numerous landing struts extended from the bottom as the transport finally settled onto the runway. A seam formed along the craft's side, where moments before it was flawlessly smooth. The hatch opened and a ramp slowly extended downward.

A group of men and women began exiting the transport. They appeared human, but Kyle knew they were all wearing holosuits. He watched as they offloaded their gear. Some worked in pairs, shouldering large containers that held the sensor equipment promised to the embassies around the world for monitoring Earth's solar system.

Kyle turned to look at the group behind him. There was excitement and nervousness in their faces; unlike the Trephi, who looked less than enthused.

When he turned back to face the ship, he saw an attractive white haired woman step off the ramp. Kyle smiled as he recognized the holosuited form of Sheral approaching him.

"General Dalton, it's good to see you again." The tone of her voice was warm and comforting.

Kyle nodded. "Thank you, Sheral. Not to be rude, but I have orders to get the exchange party onto the transport as soon as possible."

Sheral Looked over Kyle's shoulder at the large lot of people assembled behind him and smiled.

"Of course, please this way." She made a friendly gesture towards the direction of the ramp. The two groups exchanged glances as Sheral ushered the humans onto the transport while the Trephi were escorted by secret service agents to a caravan of waiting limousines.

As the human exchange group entered the ship. Some of the researchers as well as a few of the military officers took the seats closest to them, the rest wandered about the ship, a look of wonder plastered on their faces. However the enlisted men simply stood there, waiting for an officer's permission to be seated.

Sheral gave Kyle a slightly confused look and whispered into his ear. "Why are they just standing there?"

Kyle let out a sigh of mild exasperation. "The military," he whispered back. "Still cranking out mindless drones." Kyle walked to the front of the group and turned to face them. "Please be seated."

Ignoring the seats nearest them, the troops walked past Kyle and sat a respectable distance from the seated officers and civilian researchers. Kyle shook his head in annoyance; the military hadn't changed one god damned bit since he had left it. Looking around the room he spotted the seat farthest away from any of the other passengers.

Sheral ran about the ship making sure that all of the humans were seated for takeoff. While the ship's gravity dampening system would keep the passengers unaware of the ship's sudden tilt and acceleration as it took off and left the confines of Earth's atmosphere; there was still a one in a million chance that they could fail. Turning any person, who was not sitting in a seat equipped with an emergency backup gravity dampener, into chunky salsa. However unlikely, as a precautionary measure in case of such an event, it was SDF policy that everyone remained seated while the transport underwent any acceleration that exceeded the physical limits of its crew and passengers.

When all of the passengers were finally seated, Sheral entered the cockpit and signaled Nersal to take off. The transport retracted its landing struts as it smoothly lifted off of the landing strip. Rising several meters it turned 180 degrees and raised its nose towards the sky. Faster than the human eye could register it began to accelerate and in less than half a blink of an eye was gone.

Initially all of the passengers spoke excitedly about being the first humans to leave Sol and make contact with an alien species. Kyle smiled knowingly, mildly amused by their error.

Several hours into the flight the troops, officers and civilians began to settle in and talk privately amongst themselves. Kyle couldn't understand the researcher's topics and he had no interest in sharing in on a conversation with any of the officers or grunts, not caring to hear about their wives and children, or all of the girlfriends that they had all left behind to go on this assignment. He had no recent family stories to share, nor did he have someone special to miss him and wait anxiously for his return.

Kyle found the cushions of his seat to be soft and comfortable, yet he could still hear the soldiers talking amongst themselves. They had become bored with their family stories and began to spin tales of modern military myths and legends. Kyle grew sick of their banter, of hearing them retell the same tired tales over and over again. Desiring silence he looked around the room for an exit. At the far end of the ships common area there was a small hatchway. Thinking back he could not remember once seeing any of the other passengers exit out though that passageway.

Sheral was speaking with one of the officers at the opposite end of the room; she looked up in time to see Kyle walk though the hatch that led to the cargo hold. Politely excusing herself, Sheral followed after Kyle.

The cargo hold was an ugly place, designed for utility, not luxury. Kyle didn't care; it was quiet, and that was all that mattered. He saw a small metal crate in the center of the cargo bay. After taking a seat on the crate, he leaned forward, put his hands on his knees and let out a small, depressed sigh.

"General, looking for something?"

Kyle looked up and saw Sheral entering though the small hatch that he had just come through.

"No." Kyle said softly, his voice carrying a sad tone. He turned his head away from Sheral and stared at the bulkhead across from him.

Sheral cocked her head to look at Kyle curiously. "Then, why do you choose to sit in the least comfortable place on the transport?"

Kyle did not want to discuss his reasons for wanting to be alone; however he didn't want to just outright dismiss Sheral. Kyle continued to stare at the bulkhead as he tried to think of a tactful excuse of why he wanted to be alone. Before he could think of one Sheral sat down beside him.

"General?" She laid a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "I have seen you like this before, what troubles you so deeply?"

Kyle continued to stare at the wall. "As I said before, I wish I could tell you, but I can't. And please, the name is Kyle, not General."

"Would it help if I promised absolute confidentiality? Whatever you tell me will not leave this hold."

Kyle looked at her. Sheral's eyes were sincere, and her presence comforting. He didn't want to discuss his family, nor an old trauma that had caused him many sleepless nights. Although these memories stirred many different emotions, guilt was not one of them; he was able to handle those feelings and felt no need to share them. There was a third memory that also evoked many different emotions in him, guilt being the most prominent. Kyle felt compelled to share this memory, however.

"If I told you, it would be a violation of an oath that I made a long time ago to my country." There was finality to his statement that told Sheral unless he was freed from this oath, he would take his secret to the grave.

"I understand your sense of honor." Sheral said sadly. "Though, is there anything I can do for you Kyle?"

"No." Kyle wanted to change the subject and redirect the focus of the conversation. "I am sorry for what my people did to you."

"Thank you. But that is behind us." He looked into her eyes and saw the pain that the memories of her experience brought her.

"You must see Earth as a rather barbaric world."

Sheral looked at Kyle, surprised by his harsh appraisal of his people. "Barbaric is a bit strong. Immature might be more accurate. But, your people will grow eventually as the universe opens to you. Our own civilization was much like yours in ancient times."

Kyle gave her an angry look.

Sheral was taken aback by the degree of hate she saw in his eyes. She was even more surprised when she realized that it was not directed outward. Kyle's anger was directed inward.

"Your people, as they expanded, did they annihilate everything that lay in their path? Did they ravage entire countries just to gain dominance? Well mine did. Over the course of our history humanity has proven that it has an insatiable hunger for power; and is willing to do anything to get it."

Sheral nodded sadly. "Very much like ancient times."

Kyle gave her a thoughtful look. "Then perhaps, just perhaps, there is hope. But I wouldn't hold my breath."

Sheral patted Kyle on his leg. "There are some Trephi that see great promise for your people. There are humans that have great vision and ability to change."

Kyle looked away, gazing sadly at the air in front of him. "I would like to see my people grow up. But I doubt I'll live long enough to see it."

"I can't lie to you, you're probably right. Change takes time."

Kyle let out a bitter chuckle. "It's a simple want, yet it is so impossible to fulfill. Like so many other things in my life."

Sheral watched Kyle for a moment and was uncertain of how to comfort him, wondering what could have happened in his life to leave such emptiness. She watched as Kyle heaved a long drawn out sigh; he then looked at her.

"So tell me about your world." Kyle said, again wanting to change the subject. Sheral thought for a second, not knowing where to start. "What would you like to know?"

He rubbed his chin. "I don't know. When away from your planet, what do you miss the most about it?"

Sheral thought for a moment. "The smell," she said with an odd grin. "You probably weren't expecting me to say that."

"No. No I did not." Kyle stopped and thought about his question. He realized to his surprise that there was nothing he could think of that he genuinely missed about Earth. His home was a small house, in a large town, built to accommodate the nations rapidly growing population. From every window of his home he could see the surrounding houses, all clones spawned from the uninspired mind of the architects and landscapers who had designed the development. There were slight variations among the houses, a torn screen door here, a shutter hanging off of its hinges there, missing side panels everywhere. The numerous flaws were a testament to the town's cheap and shoddy construction.

Sheral elaborated on her answer. "Our world has been restored to a very natural state, free of pollution. The scent is not apparent while you are there, but leave and you notice the difference, especially when traveling for long periods."

"Sounds like a paradise."

Sheral nodded and smiled. "We take great pride in our world. Is there anything else you would like to know?"

Kyle took a moment to think before answering.

"Tell me about your people, just in general."

"Our society is fairly carefree. Compared to your people, less time is spent at an occupation and more time is spent with family."

"I noticed that your family seemed rather close." Kyle smiled as his thoughts drifted back to happier days.

Sheral smiled proudly. "Thank you. We are. Most Trephi families are. Do you come from a large family, Kyle?"

At the mention of his family Sheral saw a subtle change in Kyle's face, perhaps it was a slight flinch of an eye, or tightening of a jaw muscle. Whatever it was, Sheral could see that she had touched upon a subject of grievance for Kyle.

"Yes, a very large one." He said flatly.

"Are you close?"

"No. No I have not spoken to any of them in many years." Kyle said hoping that his answer would deter her from asking anymore questions about his family; it didn't.

"Was there a fallout between you?"

"I really don't wish to discuss it." Externally Kyle did not show any sign of his sorrow; internally Kyle felt as if his heart had been torn out with hot shrapnel.

Sheral nodded. "Well, I should I should be getting back to the other guests. Shall I have your bed moved here or would you like to try standard quarters?" Sheral's ears flicked in amusement.

Kyle looked at her and smiled. She was the first person, with the exception of Grey, that had ever truly seemed to care.

"No, save yourself the trouble, I'll just use standard quarters."

"If you seek refuge from the others, you're welcome to come up to the front of the transport."

"Oh?" Kyle cocked his head slightly to the side.

"We are sharing the crew quarters. Feel free to come talk anytime."

Kyle nodded. "Thank you, but for now, I think I'll stay here."

Sheral nodded and got up to exit through the hatch.

"Sheral?" She turned to look at Kyle.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for listening."

"Anytime Kyle." Sheral said, more of a statement than an acknowledgment of his thanks. Kyle watched her leave though the small hatch.

Kyle tossed and turned in his small bed. He had been crammed in with two colonels who talked in their sleep and Major Mitchell who snored quite loudly. He hadn't always been a light sleeper. There were times long ago when he would cuddle in with his wife and sleep until noon.

Kyle sat up in his bunk and rubbed his eyes. He had no idea what time it was, nor did it really matter. Swinging his legs over the side, he fumbling in the dark for his pants and pulled them up over the boxing shorts that he had been sleeping in. The T-shirt he wore to bed was serviceable, so he didn't bother changing it.

Opening the door to the cramped room, he stepped out into the brightly-lit hallway of the transport and made his way towards the ship's galley. Kyle found it to be fully stocked with both human and Trephyn food. Not feeling particularly courageous this night, he avoided all of the alien food and several earth products that tried to pass themselves off as edible. After sifting through the cabinet for several minutes he found what he had been looking for, instant coffee mix.

Kyle took a seat on one of the common room's cushioned chairs positioned to face the transport's video view screen. Sipping his coffee he stared at the starry image. He thought about the past day. Sheral, he hardly knew her, yet he felt comfortable around her. She had been willing to listen, not because it was her job like so many of the military shrinks he had seen over the years. In retrospect, he couldn't find any sign of an ulterior motive; she listened because she wanted to help him. How he wished he could accept that help.

Kyle did not hear the door to the front cabin open as Nersal stepped into the common area.

Nersal saw Kyle sitting in front of the view screen and grew annoyed. He had hoped that all of the humans would be asleep, allowing him to have a peaceful meal by himself. Doing his best to ignore Kyle, Nersal walked over to the galley. He pulled out an odd looking metallic package. Opening it, he placed it in the galley's heating unit. Two seconds later he removed his meal and sat down at a small table several feet off to Kyle's right side.

Major Mitchell entered the galley. He had a vacant, tired expression on his face. Reaching into the refrigeration unit he pulled out a Terran TV dinner pack and placed it into the heating unit that Nersal had been using just seconds before.

Squinting though sleepy eyes he examined its small touch pad controls. They were in Synacian. The Major, to tired to use his own common sense, began to randomly push buttons. He yelped as a large bursting sound came from within the heating unit, opening the unit's door he could see food matter smeared all over the sides. A small light flickered on, indicating that the unit's automatic cleaner had come online, vaporizing the mess.

"Clut." Nersal said softly as Kyle muttered under his breath, "Moron."

Nersal looked at Kyle; surprised to hear him make a comment about the other human.

The embarrassed major timidly grabbed a small bag of dry crackers and hastily exited the galley.

Nersal took a bite of his meal, closing his eyes as he chewed, attempting to ignore any distractions to further interrupt his thoughts as he ate.

Kyle watched Nersal with interest. "You realize closing your eyes is not going to make me go away. If you would rather be alone just say so and I'll leave."

Nersal stopped chewing as he looked toward Kyle. He swallowed hard, slightly annoyed by Kyle's interruption.

"I do not care what you do. I can enjoy my meal with or without your presence."

Intentionally ignoring Nersal's crass attitude Kyle decided to take a chance and push the issue. There was something about this Trephyn that seemed unusually familiar. Yet Kyle could not place his finger upon what it was.

"Then why are you trying so hard to ignore me?"

"I am not."

Kyle nodded, an unconvinced look on his face. "If you say so."

Nersal's annoyance increased. Setting his eating utensil down he paused for a moment, composing himself. He tried to remain calm. He didn't want to embarrass himself by becoming emotional, like he had done several weeks earlier with Grey. Turning his head he glared at Kyle, hoping that the human would wither under his cold gaze.

"I have seen that some humans pray to their gods before their meals. I do not criticize that act. I do not expect my eating habits criticized in return."

Kyle, not intimidated by Nersal, raised his left eyebrow inquisitively. "So you were praying, not ignoring me?"

"Not praying. Reflecting and keeping a promise to always keep my mate in my thoughts."

"Oh. Looking forward to seeing her again when you return to Synac?"

Nersal slammed his hands on the table as he pushed himself up to stand. Without saying a word he threw his unfinished meal into the recycler and stalked out of the room.

Mildly puzzled by Nersal's behavior Kyle watched him leave and continued to sip his now cold coffee.

Lieutenant Joseph Sobeck was sitting in one of common area's corner seats. A small group of young recruits and one sergeant gathered around him in a semi-circle. They all leaned forward and listened intently as he spoke in a hushed voice; the type of voice that one uses around a campfire while telling tales of horror and mystery.

A young private sat upright as a reaction to the end of Sobeck's story. "You can't be serious. He did that? With his bare hands?" He said incredulously, a look of wonder on his face.

Sobeck chuckled softly to himself. He enjoyed sharing the account that he had just told with younger troopers, just to see the look on their faces. "Yes, and let me tell you Citar let those bastards off lightly."

Sheral was sitting at a nearby table, sipping a tea-like drink while looking over a datapad. Her ears unintentionally focused in on the soldier's conversation.

The older more experienced Sgt. spoke up, "Ever hear about what he did to a terrorist group in Egypt?" He waited for a response, looking around at the rest of the troops in the group. "I'll take it your silence means no." He took in a deep breath and exhaled before he began. "Well it was about about 15 years ago. A terrorist group was regrouping after a recent attack on the US embassy. Anyway, a UN Special Forces team was sent to deal with them." He paused for dramatic effect. "Well they found them, but didn't have to deal with them."

"What do you mean?" A voice interrupted before the sergeant could finish. Turning he looked at the young private, annoyed by his interruption.

"Well if you shut up and let me finish I'll tell you. Now where was I? Oh yes, the UN Team. When they arrived on the scene they found all of the terrorists dead, nailed to the walls, and gutted."

Sheral winced slightly at the imagery inspired by the soldier's words. Sobeck on the other hand was slightly irked that the sergeant had upstaged his story. He thought back to all of the lore he had heard over the years about Citar, searching for an account that could outdo the sergeant's tale, smiling as one finally came to mind.

Kyle entered the common room and noticed the disturbed look on Sheral's face. Walking across the room, to ask Sheral what was bothering her, he happened to overhear the soldiers, and understood what the source of her distress was.

Kyle approached the soldiers, standing several feet behind Sobeck's audience as he began to spin his tale. "When New York was destroyed in the nuclear attack, Citar, according to legend, swore he'd track down and kill every man who was involved in the New York massacre. But he was unable to track them down because it was never established which terrorist group nuked The Big Apple. Eventually Citar determined the best way to eliminate them for sure was to completely devastate the region that they occupied, so he hacked every Middle Eastern country's defense grid and ordered a nuclear strike. Ya see, Citar caused the Middle Eastern nuclear exchange."

Sobeck leaned back with a satisfied look on his face, feeling confident that no one could top his tale. Sheral was appalled that this man could speak so casually about the murder of millions and seem to take pleasure in doing so.

Kyle had heard this same tale many times, and was just as offended now as when he first heard it.

"What are you boys talking about?" Kyle said, as he looked around at the group, his eyes falling upon Sobeck.

"Just Citar, sir."

"Ah yes, Citar."

The troop grinned, "Yes sir."

"Well then allow me to share what I know." All of the troops leaned closer; even Sheral set down her datapad and to listen.

"Citar was a monster and only blood lusting jerkoffs like yourselves would even think of idolizing him." Kyle said coldly.

Sobeck's smile faded, contorting into a nasty sneer. "Screw you, why don't you piss off and leave us alone. We don't need the opinion of burnt out old desk jockeys!" The other troops nodded in agreement.

"Right on!"

"Yeah get lost ya pathetic paper pusher."

Kyle clenched his hands and gritted his teeth. He wanted so badly to kick these pathetic bastards' asses. Summoning up all of his remaining self-control he turned and walking away. Sheral watched the whole scene with interest.

Kyle walked over to Sheral's table and sat down in the seat across from her.

"Kyle." She said pleasantly.

"Stupid bastards." He muttered under his breath, not hearing her.

Sheral spoke again, her voice slightly louder than before. "Kyle?"

"Hmmm?" Kyle looked up at her. "Oh sorry, did you say something?"

She nodded in acknowledgment to his question. "Though their topic was unpleasant, they were not causing trouble."

"No perhaps not." Kyle sat up. "But that legend over the last 24 years has. So many soldiers end up like Sobeck because they use Citar as their idol."

"Not a very good idol, from what I overheard."

"No, but a popular one. A very popular one."

Sheral nodded, "Our troops have idols as well. Though they tend to be celebrated for more positive attributes that a body count."

"Soldier's idolize Citar for more than his body count. He was ruthless, cold, sadistic and calculating. Results were the center of his existence. He was void of any concept of morality or compassion. For him the ends always justified the means."

Sheral sipped her drink. "As I said, not a very good idol."

"No," Kyle looked down at the table, "Not a very good idol indeed."

Sheral looked at Kyle, saddened by his obviously troubled expression. "I'd ask what bothers you, but I doubt you would share."

Kyle nodded and stood. "Your right, I wouldn't. Well anyway, sorry to waste your time." Before Sheral could reply Kyle had already turned to leave.

Grey was stretched out across his bunk in the reserve-flight-crew quarters that had been reserved for the emissaries.

He looked across the room where Geheran was sleeping on his own bed. Grey didn't mind having to share the quarters with Nicia and her parents, but it would have been nice if he and Nicia had someplace private to pass the boredom.

Grey looked back to his datapad, scrolling through some of the information on the exchange personnel. He glanced up as the door slid open and Sheral walked in.

"Hey, mom." Grey teased.

Sheral walked over to Geheran as she tried to remember when Grey had started calling her that. She leaned over her mate and licked his muzzle gently, causing him to stir.

Sheral smiled as she walked over and sat on the edge of Grey's bunk. She playfully ran her fingers through his hair. "Hello, son." She finally teased back in return.

Grey smiled. "What brings you to my bedside?"

"Greyson, I am concerned about Kyle."

Grey looked at Sheral anxiously as he sat up beside her. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I was just talking with him after the others boarded. He was avoiding everyone by hiding in the cargo bay."

"Well, that's nothing new. Kyle was never one for being around other people."

"Sounds familiar." Sheral said with a smile.

Grey smiled as he realized she was referring to him.

"Also, a little while ago, he was rather harsh with some of the exchange personnel while they were talking about the exploits of a soldier named Citar."

"Ah, the old Citar legend."

"You are familiar with it?"

"Every soldier is."

"Is it true, what the others said about him?" Sheral asked, almost sounding awed.

Grey chuckled. "I believe in the case of Citar, the myth has surpassed the man. There is some truth to the stories, but there is also exaggeration."

Sheral nodded in understanding. "Anyway, I think there is more to his unhappiness, but he claims to talk about it would violate his oaths to his country."

Grey was perplexed by what Sheral had said. Kyle telling Sheral about his family wouldn't have violated anything. If anything, Kyle would have been frank and told Sheral he didn't wish discuss his family. An excuse like that was out of character.

"Perhaps it is his ailment," Geheran said as he looked at Grey and Sheral from across the room. "Back at your cabin, I noticed he had trouble with his hands. I suggested he should see Sheral because of her medical background, but he claimed he could manage."

"Grey?" Sheral questioned hopefully.

"I know he has some medical problems, but I assume they are from age or the sometimes hard lifestyle of military service."

Sheral took on a more serious expression. "Do you know anything that might allow me to help him?"

Grey remembered his promise to Kyle, to not tell anyone about the loss of his family. Sheral had helped him accept loosing Susan and rebuild his life. Grey was certain she could help Kyle in some way. He wondered if Kyle would understand if he went back on his word.

Sheral could see Grey was arguing with his conscience. "You do know something, don't you?"

Grey nodded. "Yes."

Sheral waited patiently.

"But I promised Kyle I wouldn't tell anyone." Grey said, pained.

Sheral's ears lowered as she thought she had reached another obstacle to prevent her from trying to help Kyle.

"I realize you want to help him. If I tell you, please try to find a way to help without letting him know I told you."

Sheral nodded. "I will try my best."

Grey sighed heavily. "Several years ago, one of our largest cities was a victim of nuclear terrorism. Kyle's entire family lived there: his wife and son, three generations, all his relatives. He lost them all."

Sheral and Geheran both looked horrified at the thought of Kyle's loss.

Grey knew, with the closeness of Trephi families, completely loosing all ties to relatives was one of the worse things that could happen.

"I'm not sure there's much you can do for him, Sheral." Grey said sadly.

Sheral's expression brightened. A smile slowly formed on her muzzle as she thought of something that might work and keep Grey's involvement secret. "I think I have an idea."